


A Journals Observations

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-07
Updated: 2000-04-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Benton wonders if he should change to try and be more like those around him.





	A Journals Observations

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

A Journals Observations

## A Journals Observations

by Maria TB Mendoza

* * *

A Journals Observations  
By Maria TB Mendoza 

It is still occasionally unsettling. After living back home, it feels strange to be in another country. Even though I have lived here for several years, there are still times I feel like I have just arrived and know nothing of the people who live here. Many of the most common acts serve to mark me as a foreigner. Opening the door for someone. Offering to help a stranger. Even my speech, they all betray me as a non-native. Am I odd, or are the two countries really so different? Both have the same basic language. Both are basically alike in laws. They share a continent. Yet, I am instantly recognized as being from someplace else. Many even know after only a few minutes in my presence that I am not even from this country. 

Should I change? If I am going to live in this country, is it not reasonable for me to try and better blend in with those native to the area? Perhaps it is time I do so. Perhaps I should cease to be so optimistic. I should turn skeptical of others and suspicious of strangers. I will become easily angered and no longer stop to help someone simply because it looks like they may need it. I will not stop whenever I see someone asking for change and I will never pause when passing people requesting money for charities. Maybe I should eat junk food and not worry about what it will do to me. I can slouch whenever I sit and attain some bad habit; I may begin to bite my nails, chew on pens and pencils, or drum my fingers incessantly on the desks. 

I think perhaps I shall" 

Suddenly looking up from his journal, the man turned towards the door. When he again heard knocking, he called out permission to enter. 

"Sir, um, there seems to be a lady here to see you, sir. Should I ask her to come back later or would you like to see her? Or, I could see if I could take care of whatever it is. She just said she wanted to speak to you, but it could be something I can take care of. Or, I could" 

"Turnbull." 

"Yes, sir?" 

"I'll be right out to see her." 

"Very good, sir. I'll go and see if she wants some tea." 

Watching the other man leave, he rose from his desk and reached for his bright red jacket. The summer heat had made it quite uncomfortable to wear in the little office which had become his home, but it would be unseemly to meet someone while out of uniform. Checking that his appearance was acceptable, that he gave the proper impression as a representative of his country, he left the office. 

Approaching the front desk, he saw a woman standing nervously just within the doorway. She appeared to be middle aged and carried a grocery bag in one hand and grasped her shoulder bag with the other. She stood still, only her eyes moving as she glanced around the room. Approaching her slowing, he saw her eyes track him as he drew closer. 

"Excuse me, Mam." When she met his eyes, he smiled kindly. "I am Constable Benton Fraser, you asked to speak to me." 

"Oh, yes. I did. I came to thank you." 

"Thank me?" Motioning toward two vacant seats, he sat down next to her. He was reasonable sure he did not know her. Wondering what a stranger would have to thank him for, he waited patiently while she set her bag on the ground beside her. 

"The other night, my little Amber- Well, she isn't so little anymore. \- and some hooligans were giving her a hard time when she was coming home from a friends house. Seems they'd gotten a little caught up talking and forgotten to check the time. Anyway, she was walking home alone, and it was getting a little dark already, and these boys were really frightening her. Well, she says you just showed up out of no where and told the boys to leave her alone. Then you walked her all the way home and even let her wear your jacket since it had gotten a little chilly what with the wind blowing and the sun having gone down and all. Since you told her your name and everything, I just thought it right to stop by and say thank you." Wiping a tear from her eye before it had a chance to fall, she suddenly picked up the grocery bag and pulled a large foil wrapped package from within it. "I was making some cookies this morning, sugar since they're Amber's favorite, and thought you might like some." Handing him the package, she gave his hand a brief squeeze as he took it. "Not many young men would be willing to face a whole gang of troublemakers just to help some girl they've never seen before. I don't know why you cared enough to help my baby, but I am eternally grateful." Standing, she smiled at him. "My name and address are on the bottom of the plate. If you're ever in my neighborhood near dinnertime, I expect you to stop by. I'd love to have you over, and I'm sure Amber would love to see you again." Giving his should a little pat, she smiled at him maternally. "You are very special young man; and you will always have my thanks for what you did. If there were more young men like you, this city would be a whole lot better to live in." Smiling at him again, she pulled her shoulder bag closer to her body and left. 

Sitting there for a long moment, just thinking about what she had said, he slowly rose. 

"Is all well, sir?" 

"Yes, Turnbull. Everything is fine." 

"Excellent work saving that lady's daughter, sir. It was most commendable." 

"Thank you." 

Walking back to his office, he entered and gently set his newly acquired package upon his desk. Opening it carefully, he looked at the neatly stacked cookies. The sugar sprinkled liberally on their surfaces, combined with the not-quite-round shapes, showed that they were indeed home made. Reaching for one, he smiled as he encountered their still warm surfaces. Taking a small bite, he closed his eyes to enjoy the wonderful confection's taste. Smiling, he took another bite and tightly re-wrapped the remainder. His friend, Ray, would also like them and he would save the rest for them to eat together. About to put the package away, he suddenly found himself being stared at by two large pleading eyes. 

"OK, Diefenbaker. You can have one. But the rest have to wait until Ray arrives." Opening the package again, he removed a single cookie and held it out to the wolf begging at his feet. 

Closing the package, he stepped around his desk. Placing it in the bottom drawer, where it would not be bumped or noticed should he have a visitor, he returned to his seat and looked at the unfinished page before him. Re-reading the last few sentences, he picked up the pen and began to write once more. 

"not change at all. 

A woman just came to see me. Two evenings ago, I stopped several young men from bothering her daughter. She came by to thank me. She said that, were more men like me, this city would be better to live. Perhaps she is correct. 

Perhaps it is not important whether or not I fit in. Perhaps it is only important to be the person that I feel I should be. Ray has often said that I am a bad influence on him. Since he has known me he has begun to open doors and behave more courteously toward both his co-workers and the strangers he meets in his investigations. Maybe I should not change at all, but rather attempt to change those around me by showing them how they should act. With time, perhaps I will achieve changing their attitudes and manners. For now, in my opinion, they are non-existent but with work perhaps they will become at least acceptable. I do not know if they were not raised with them as we were, though Mrs. Vecchio certainly seems to expect those in her house to behave, or if they somehow forgot them as they grew older; whatever the problem, perhaps they can be reminded." 

As a knock sounded from his door, he raised his head and called out permission for whomever it was to enter. 

"Hey, Benny. Ready to go?" Smiling at his friend, he shook his head no. 

"Sorry, Ray. I am on duty for another," He checked the clock. "ten minutes. You are welcome to wait with me, though." As his friend nodded, he opened the drawer in which he had placed this thank you gift. "I received these a short time ago." He said as he placed the package where the other man could see it. "They are quite good." Opening the foil to reveal the cookies, he held them out. 

"Thanks, Benny. You don't have to share them though." Looking hesitant for a moment, Benton just smiled and looked at his friend. After a moment he reached out and took one with a small grin of thanks. Taking a bite, his smile grew. "These are fresh. And they're home made." Taking another bite, he moaned pleasantly at the wonderful taste. "And they're great. Where'd you get them?" 

Offering him another, Benton took one for himself as well. "A women brought them to me." 

"You got women bringing you cookies? It wasn't Frannie was it?" 

"No, Francesca did not bring them to me. And, no, I do not have women bringing me cookies. I had a woman bring them to me as a thank you gift." 

"What did you do?" 

"I helped a young lady when some young men were bothering her and then walked her home. Her mother made these as a thank you gift for assisting and protecting her daughter." 

"You can't help it can you, Benny?" 

"Help what, Ray?" 

"Help saving people. It's like you can't go an entire day without saving someone." 

"Sorry, Ray." 

"I didn't mean it that way. I mean, I'm a cop and you do more saving people and stuff than I do. It just makes me feel bad sometimes. Like maybe I'm missing something or something." 

"I don't intend to make you feel bad, Ray. I" 

"I know, Benny. You see something wrong and you fix it. It's who you are. I wouldn't change it if I could, I just wish I could have a little of it sometimes." 

As the two sat there, each thinking their own thoughts, they were interrupted by the whining of the rooms other occupant. 

"Sorry, Dief." Taking a cookie from the plate, Ray handed it to the seemingly starved wolf. "Didn't Benny give you any earlier?" 

"Yes, Ray. I gave him one whenever I had one. He simply wants more. He has grown quite spoiled since we have been here. I have started working out with him, but he still insists on begging treats whenever he goes out." 

"Give him a break. He's a growing wolf. Aren't you, Dief?" Laughing at the tongue that lolled lazily and then lashed out to steal another cookie, Ray grinned at his friend. "Maybe he is getting a little greedy after all." 

"As I said, Ray. He is quite spoiled." Looking at the clock, he saw that he was no long on duty. "If you will a moment while I change, I will be ready to go." 

"No problem. I don't think the ice is gonna melt and the stadium will still be there if were a few minutes late. Anyway, I was thinking we'd stop for a burger or something on the way." 

"That sound's fine, Ray." Quickly hanging his uniform, he changed it more casual clothes. 

"Hey, Benny?" 

"Yes, Ray." 

"What's this?" Looking at the book his friend held up, he felt himself begin to blush. 

"That is my journal, Ray." 

"Oh." 

"Benny?" 

"Yes, Ray." 

"Do me a favor?" 

"What, Ray?" 

"Keep trying to remind us." 

Looking at his friend, Benton found him eating another cookie and quietly talking to Diefenbaker. He gave no sign as to how much he may have read, or what he might have thought of it. Smiling at his friend, he turned back to getting ready. Finished, he stepped towards the door. "I am ready to go." He said when the other two looked up at him. 

"OK. Let's go." As they left the office, they debated what to eat. Reaching Ray's car, Benton stopped outside the passenger door. 

"Ray." 

"Yea, Benny?" 

"I won't stop trying." Sharing a smile, Ray suddenly pulled open his door. 

"So, I still think we should go to Flow's." 

"I have told you, Ray. That place is far too greasy for you to eat very often. Why don't we go to..." 


End file.
